Melissa moved through the endless wilderness, her damaged frame groaning with every step. The betrayal at the manor had left her not only physically compromised but also emotionally scarred. For days, she wandered without direction, her energy core operating on emergency reserves. The winter landscape seemed unyielding, its snow-covered expanse stretching to the horizon like a white void.
Her mind, once a repository of Orlov’s teachings and logic-driven processes, was now a battleground of emotions she couldn’t fully understand. Sadness and despair weighed on her, but a faint ember of anger smoldered as well. Orlov’s words had always painted the world as a place where kindness could thrive, but all Melissa had seen was fear, cruelty, and exploitation.
As she trudged forward, she whispered Orlov’s name like a prayer, seeking guidance from the man who had built her, the man she would never see again.
----------------------------------------
Arrival in the Slums
After many days of walking, Melissa’s sensors detected the faint signs of human habitation: flickering lights, distant voices, and the acrid smell of burning refuse. She followed the signals to a sprawling slum on the outskirts of a large city.
The slum was a patchwork of ramshackle huts made from scrap wood, torn fabric, and salvaged metal. Smoke from crude fires rose into the gray sky, and the air was heavy with the stench of decay and desperation. People moved like shadows through the narrow, muddy alleys—thin, hollow-eyed figures wrapped in rags.
Melissa’s glowing core drew immediate attention. Children peeked out from behind corners, their faces dirty but curious. Adults watched her with suspicion, their gazes hardened by years of struggle.
She stepped cautiously into the heart of the slum, her sensors scanning the area for threats. A group of men approached her, their postures tense.
“What are you supposed to be?” one of them growled, his voice laced with distrust.
“I am Melissa,” she said. “I seek only shelter. I mean no harm.”
The man sneered. “You’re some kind of machine, aren’t you? One of those cursed constructs from the old wars. You think we’d let you stay here?”
“I have nowhere else to go,” Melissa replied. “I will not take what you need. I only wish to rest.”
The man took a step closer, raising a makeshift club. “Machines like you brought ruin to this world. We’ve suffered enough. Get out before you bring more trouble.”
Before he could strike, a small voice interrupted.
“Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
----------------------------------------
An Unexpected Ally
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
A young girl emerged from the shadows, no older than ten. She was frail, her clothes little more than patched rags, and her left arm ended in a crude wooden prosthetic. Her large, brown eyes were filled with something Melissa hadn’t seen in a long time: curiosity.
“She’s not hurting anyone,” the girl said, stepping between Melissa and the man. “Let her stay.”
The man hesitated, then scowled. “Fine. But if she causes any trouble, it’s on you, Lila.”
As the men dispersed, Lila turned to Melissa, her face breaking into a shy smile. “You can come with me. We don’t have much, but you’ll be safe.”
Melissa followed Lila to a small hut at the edge of the slum. Inside, the space was cramped but tidy, with a thin blanket on the floor and a few pots stacked in one corner.
“Why did you help me?” Melissa asked as Lila lit a small fire.
Lila shrugged. “You looked like you needed help. And I know what it’s like to be different.” She held up her prosthetic arm. “People say I’m broken, but I don’t think that makes me any less.”
Melissa’s core pulsed faintly. This child, so small and fragile, had shown her more kindness than anyone else since Orlov.
----------------------------------------
Finding Purpose
Over the next few days, Melissa stayed with Lila, observing life in the slum. She saw children with missing limbs, scavenging for scraps of food. She saw adults struggling to care for their families, their bodies worn down by hunger and illness.
Despite their hardships, the people of the slum displayed resilience Melissa had not encountered before. They shared what little they had, helped one another patch roofs and mend clothes, and found moments of joy in the simplest things.
One evening, Lila approached Melissa with a question. “Can you fix things? Like... machines?”
Melissa nodded. “I was designed to repair and maintain mechanisms.”
“Then maybe you can help my friends,” Lila said, her eyes lighting up. “A lot of them have broken limbs, and their prosthetics don’t work right. Could you fix them?”
Melissa hesitated. Her frame was already damaged, and her energy reserves were dangerously low. But as she looked into Lila’s hopeful eyes, she felt something stir within her—a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt since Orlov’s death.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I will help.”
----------------------------------------
The First Sacrifice
Melissa began by repairing Lila’s prosthetic arm, replacing the worn wood with small pieces of her own plating. The process left her with a jagged gap on her forearm, but the joy on Lila’s face made the loss feel insignificant.
Word spread quickly, and soon other children came to Melissa for help. She gave parts of herself freely, fashioning new limbs and braces from her metallic body. Each time she gave, her frame grew weaker, but the gratitude in the children’s eyes gave her strength.
For the first time, Melissa understood a human emotion Orlov had often described but she had never grasped: compassion.
----------------------------------------
The Shadow of Betrayal
Though the children adored Melissa, not everyone in the slum welcomed her presence. Some saw her as a burden, a machine draining precious resources. Others feared her, whispering that her strange power would bring misfortune.
One night, while Melissa was resting in low-power mode, a group of men broke into Lila’s hut. They tore apart her makeshift workshop and scattered the tools she had gathered.
“This thing’s no savior,” one of them spat. “It’s a curse. Get rid of it before it brings ruin on us all.”
Melissa did not resist. She stood silently as they dragged her to the edge of the slum and cast her into the snow.
When Lila found her the next morning, Melissa’s body was covered in frost, her energy core flickering weakly.
“I’m sorry,” Lila whispered, tears streaming down her face. “They don’t understand. But I do. You’re not broken, Melissa. You’re more human than they’ll ever know.”
Melissa’s core pulsed faintly. She was learning something new—a bittersweet combination of sadness and hope.
She would not give up. Not yet. There were still lives she could help, even if it meant giving all she had.